


Love is in the air...

by Sideswipe_Sunstreaker



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sideswipe_Sunstreaker/pseuds/Sideswipe_Sunstreaker
Summary: ...or why nobody wants to work with Perceptor?
Kudos: 2





	Love is in the air...

Perceptor looked at Ratchet and Wheeljack sitting at the neighboring table. He would never go to the bar by his own spirit — that was Brainstorm initiative, because under-learned scientist suddenly wanted to make Perceptor smile or embarrassed. In fast and no-meaning speech of the comrade red raker understood almost nothing. He was dragged out the laboratory with his manipulator and pulled through corridors, cleaning them with recently washed armor. A bit rumpled, but really furious, he waited for disappeared Brainstorm. He reappeared as suddenly as earlier and put a cube with energon in front of his comrade.   
— Try it, — said the scientist, — Sverv is an expert in that thing!   
— Thanks, — venting, answered Perceptor.   
He looked at cute speaking mechs, which sat mostly by pairs. At that moment Brainstorm caught the sight of red raker and dreamily said: — Love is in the air...   
Perceptor has almost choked. The cube in his hand shattered into the small pieces, but that didn’t care the scientist anymore. All the visitors became quiet and just watched the furiously angry scientist.   
— WRONG! — he cried, lifting up his forefinger with a teaching manner, — Nitrogen, Oxygen and Carbon dioxide in the air!   
Scared to deactive Brainstorm quietly added: — That’s why nobody wants to work with you.   
— WHAT?!   
— Oh, that’s nothing! — Jet showed his lifted hands. — Really nothing!   
Everybody didn’t say anything at least two minutes, until Perceptor vented.  
— Never invite me to the bar, — he said, — Never.


End file.
